


Dors, Mon Lapin

by MelissaWritesStuff



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 14:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6119113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelissaWritesStuff/pseuds/MelissaWritesStuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If anyone had told Bitty a year ago that Jack Zimmermann would ever sleepily call him cutesy, French pet names, Bitty never, ever would’ve believed them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dors, Mon Lapin

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for this fandom, still easing into it, but after the update, I couldn't _not_ post something for these two.

Normally, Jack’s living room was bright and beautiful, with all the windows letting enough sunlight stream through to make his white walls glow. It was even bright on rainy days, when the sky was heavy with clouds, and the overcast sky would just paint the room with soft, gray light. But on a night like this, when the sun had been gone for hours but the waning moon wasn’t casting any light to take its place, Jack’s living room was dark. The only light in the room came from a few lamps, a scented candle, and the World War II documentary that Jack had chosen for movie night playing on his nice, big TV. Still, the darkness wasn’t bad; the low lighting made the room feel incredibly cozy, and on top of that, Jack’s couch was so comfy and soft, and the candle was making the room smell like musk and fresh linens, and it was all just so warm and lovely, and it was making Bitty feel so, so sleepy...

“Jack,” Bitty mumbled, rubbing his eyes and trying his best to suppress yet another yawn. “I’m trying - I _swear_ I’m trying - but I don’t think I can make it until the end of the movie.”

Jack finally tore his eyes away from where they’d been glued to the documentary, looking at Bitty with a small smile that was some combination of being both fond and smug. “I’m impressed you made it this long.”

“Hush,” Bitty groaned, curling up into a ball and making himself comfortable against the armrest of the couch. He made the mistake of letting his eyes fall closed for just a moment, and it quickly became clear to him that they would not be opening again anytime soon. “I had two classes and a midterm today. And hockey practice. _And_ a two-hour bus trip to get here.”

“I know,” Jack said patiently, scooting closer to Bitty and gently running a hand up and down Bitty’s arm. Jack could be so gentle and soothing when he wanted to be, and his touch felt so nice and warm...

Bitty hummed a little before continuing. “I would’ve been the best boyfriend ever today if I wasn’t so tired,” he insisted. “I would’ve made you a pie and those gross healthy cookies you like, and we would’ve started setting up your photo wall, and I would’ve stayed awake for the whole movie...”

Jack moved closer until he was right up against Bitty, leaning down and kissing Bitty’s shoulder. “I know, I understand.”

“If you wanted me to stay awake, you should’ve found a movie about baking,” Bitty told him, resisting the urge to sigh deeply at how cozy and wonderful it was to have Jack so close.

“ _You_ picked the movie last time,” Jack reminded him, slowly wrapping his arms around Bitty’s waist and bringing himself as close and snug as possible before pressing a few kisses to Bitty’s cheek and temple.

Bitty couldn’t help it anymore. He gave a dreamy, contented sigh.

Jack chuckled before squeezing Bitty tight and giving his cheek one last smooch. “You should get some sleep.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

Bitty didn’t need to look up to see Jack’s smile turn into a disapproving line. “You shouldn’t sleep on the couch.”

“Well, I’m afraid I’m too tired to walk to the bedroom,” Bitty said dramatically.

Jack wasn’t fazed for even a moment, scooping Bitty into his arms like it was the easiest thing in the world and standing up to carry him off to the bedroom. Bitty had panicked a little the first time this happened a few months ago when Jack had completely caught him by surprise, but by now, he was so used to it, he could do nothing but shake his head (which, in this instance, ended up being more like nuzzling his face against Jack’s shoulder).

Jack took Bitty to his room and swiftly but delicately lay him down on the right side of his bed. It was the side they usually had to argue for whenever they slept in the same bed, but tonight, Jack let Bitty have it without saying a word. And with that, he kissed the top of Bitty’s head and went back to the living room to turn off the TV.

As comfortable as Bitty was lying in Jack’s bed on the comfy side, he was feeling significantly less sleepy. Every part of him that had felt heavy and tired now just felt light and fluttery, so he sat up and stretched his arms over his head, smiling to himself as he looked around at Jack’s room. It was absolutely void of any form of decoration aside from the string of fairy lights Bitty had insisted on, but when Bitty had first arrived earlier today, Jack told Bitty all about the plans he had for a big stack of photos he had lying around somewhere. He’d gotten all of his favorites printed, old pictures of Samwell and artsy pictures of ice rinks and so, so many pictures of Bitty, and was going to start covering one of his bedroom walls with his pictures. Jack teased Bitty and insisted it was just so Bitty would stop complaining about how bare Jack’s apartment was, but Bitty didn’t buy it for a second; the photo wall was one-hundred percent Jack’s idea, and he wouldn’t have put this kind of effort into it if he didn’t care. The two of them were supposed to start on it today, but it was going to have to wait until tomorrow, when Jack had a day off from hockey and Bitty wasn’t dead exhausted.

Still, as bare as it currently was, Bitty adored Jack’s apartment. Bitty had never believed anywhere would feel like home as much as the Haus, and... well... nothing did. But Jack’s apartment was a close second. It was nice and new, big enough to be spacious but small enough to be cozy. It was exactly the sort of thing Bitty had always imagined would be perfect to share with a significant other, because even if it was meant for Jack living alone, in Bitty’s opinion, it was perfect for two. Not to mention, the kitchen was a _dream_ \- Bitty could spend a lifetime with that oven, with its short preheat times and stainless steel finish, that baked his pies so lovely and evenly...

(But the thing that made it feel like home probably had nothing to do with the open floor plan or the new carpet or the heavenly oven, but rather the grumpy French-Canadian hockey player that lived there.)

(But just probably.)

Bitty slipped out of bed and went to Jack’s wardrobe, rummaging through his clothes until he found the biggest, softest T-shirt he could (which, funnily enough, was an old Samwell shirt). He slipped off his own top and stepped out of his jeans before tugging on Jack’s shirt, taking a moment to revel in the softness and breathe in the scent of Jack coming off of it. Tugging on the hem a little and kicking his discarded clothes aside, Bitty went for the door to poke his head out and see what was keeping Jack.

Of course, he’d gotten distracted. Jack was just standing there, remote in his hand poised to turn the TV off, watching the documentary.

“Jack?”

Jack turned to look at Bitty, eyebrows raised. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I still needed to change into pajamas,” Bitty said, leaning against the doorway.

Jack looked down at what Bitty was wearing and gave a half-smile. “‘Pajamas’,” he repeated.

“Boyfriend shirts count as pajamas,” Bitty insisted.

Jack chuckled as he turned back to the TV and finally turned it off, and after tossing the remote onto the couch, he headed back to the bedroom to join Bitty. Bitty held out his hand for him, and once he got close enough to take it, Jack brought Bitty’s hand to his lips to kiss his fingers before following Bitty inside.

Bitty climbed back into bed before Jack could change his mind and claim the right side for himself, and just laid back and watched as Jack got ready for bed himself, admiring the view of Jack’s bare back as he tugged his shirt over his head and his ass as he bent over to pick up his jeans off the floor. When he and Jack had first started dating, Shitty had offered to get Jack a pair of shorts with “PROPERTY OF ERIC BITTLE” printed across the ass, and Bitty had absolutely refused, but right about now, he was somewhat wishing he had taken Shitty up on the offer.

Jack straightened up and turned back to Bitty, chuckling when he caught him staring. “Enjoying the show?”

Bitty just grinned. “More interesting than your history documentary.”

Jack laughed. “ _Ouch_.”

“It was _clearly_ a compliment,” Bitty said innocently. Jack just shook his head, walking over to the switch by the door to kill the lights before climbing into bed with Bitty, immediately making the covers a hundred times toastier like the human furnace he was. As if just having him in bed didn’t make things perfect enough, Jack moved closer and kissed Bitty, light and soft and sweet, and Bitty just melted into the sheets.

“You should get some sleep,” Jack murmured, his voice deep and barely above a whisper.

“You kissing me is very distracting,” Bitty pointed out.

Jack kissed Bitty again anyway, cupping Bitty’s face in his hands and slowly pressing one, two, three more kisses to his lips and one to his cheek for good measure.

“Goodnight, Bittle.”

Bitty’s face was flushed with pleasure and he couldn’t stop smiling, but he still wasn’t completely satisfied.

“No, call me the thing,” Bitty insisted. “The little nickname, I like the way you say it.”

Jack’s face went a little red, but he still gave a soft smile as he obliged. “ _Mon lapin_.”

Bitty sighed. He’d been in love with the nickname ever since Jack had accidentally let it slip once when _he_ was the exhausted one, staying up late so he could Skype with Bitty after a long, busy day. _Mon lapin_. If anyone had told Bitty a year ago that Jack Zimmermann would ever sleepily call him cutesy, French pet names, Bitty never, ever would’ve believed them, but here it was.

And with that, Bitty was content, so he leaned in for one final smooch. “Goodnight, sweetie pie.”

~

Bitty woke up in the morning to the very, very strong smell of musk and fresh linens.

Immediately, Bitty threw off his covers and ran out to Jack’s living room, mumbling, “ _shit, shit, shit_ ,” as he went to blow out the candle they’d left burning all night. Before yesterday, it had never even been touched, but now, about half the wax was burnt away. Thanking God and anyone else who might be listening that they didn’t start a house fire, Bitty blew out the candle and shuffled back to bed, thinking to himself that it’s probably a good thing Jack never lights it himself, if he isn’t going to think to blow it out.

Stepping quietly into Jack’s bedroom, Bitty found that Jack was starting to drift awake, stretching out and rubbing his eyes.

“There you are,” he grumbled, sounding grumpier than he actually was once he saw Bitty. “Where’d you run off to?”

“I was blowing out the candle that you left burning all night,” Bitty told him as he climbed back into bed, quickly getting tired again as the candle-induced panic wore off.

“ _I_ left burning?” Jack asked with an amused chuckle. “ _You_ were the one that lit it.”

“I was also the one that had to be carried to bed because I was so tired,” Bitty countered.

“If you’re just going to light candles in my apartment and then fall asleep, remind me to check the batteries in the smoke detectors.”

“I can see the headlines now,” Bitty said grandly (or at least, as grand as he could be this early in the morning). “‘Young NHL Star Jack Zimmermann and Lover Die in a House Fire’. I’m just ‘lover’.”

“You’re more than just ‘lover’ to me,” Jack offered.

“Your opinion doesn’t count, you’re dead in this scenario.”

“If I ever accidentally kill us in a house fire, I’ll be sure to do it _after_ you’re a world famous pastry chef.”

Bitty sighed. “That’s all I ask.”

“Y’know,” Jack said, “when you ran out of the bedroom, I almost thought you were running to the kitchen to bake something.”

Bitty laughed. “Do you _want_ me to bake you something?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Jack assured him. “If anything, it’s my turn to make you breakfast.”

Bitty snorted. “Speaking of house fires...”

“That was _one time_ , Bittle.”

And it was just one time, because Jack actually wasn’t a bad cook when he put in the effort, and the Toast Incident was definitely a case of faulty wiring and not anything Jack had done wrong, but Bitty loved to tease anyway. He shook his head and smiled to himself as he moved closer to wrap his arms around Jack, and Jack was quick to comply, turning onto his side so Bitty could spoon him. With one arm around Jack’s shoulders and the other around his stomach, Bitty let out a contented sigh and pressed a kiss to the back of Jack’s neck. “Let’s sleep in a little more. Then you can make me breakfast, and we can finish your documentary, and we can start your photo wall.”

Jack took one of his Bitty’s hands in his and lifted it to his lips to kiss the center of his palm. “Sounds perfect.”

Bitty just hummed and nuzzled his face against Jack’s soft, warm skin. Bitty didn’t know what soap Jack used, but whatever it was, it made Jack smell like how a hug feels.

“Eric?”

Bitty let out a soft laugh, because Jack almost never called him by his first name. “Yes?”

Jack kissed Bitty’s hand again before carefully tracing his fingers over the lines in Bitty’s palm, pausing a moment before speaking. “I’m really happy you’re here.”

And Bitty felt like all of his insides turned into hot syrup, absolutely melting at Jack’s words and filling him to the brim with so much love and warmth toward him. Bitty tightened his arms around him, a little glad that Jack couldn’t see how red his face was getting, and kissed his skin. “I’m really happy to be here, Jack.”

“No, do the nickname,” Jack said, and Bitty snorted.

“Good morning, sweetie pie.”

“Good morning, _mon lapin_.”

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm sorry if no speaker of Quebecois would ever be caught dead calling their boyfriend 'mon lapin' but when I tried googling Quebecois pet names, google was not my friend X_X) Thanks so much for reading!!
> 
> ///
> 
> {[click here to reblog from my writing tumblr](http://melissawritesstuff.tumblr.com/post/140105599649/dors-mon-lapin)}  
> ★reblogs are much appreciated★


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